


Revelation

by masked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, Episode Related, Episode: s10e05 Fan Fiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2019-09-06 23:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16842976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masked/pseuds/masked
Summary: Sam drags a Mark of Cain-fueled demon Dean to a haunting at a high school play. He happens to catch one important scene in Dean's life that he's never shared with Sam before.





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Sept 12, 2014 [here](http://hamburgergod.tumblr.com/post/97269070403/1005-aka-200th-episode-pre-coda-is-that-the). This fic was written and posted before s10 aired hence the presence of demon!Dean.

The light dims, and Sam’s grip on Dean’s arm tightens. _Stay put_ , is the message he’s going for, but the newly demon Dean only rolls his eyes in exasperation, as if tightening his measly human grip is going to hold a Mark of Cain-ed demon down, even with the purifying human blood acting as an agent. _  
_

Sam watches the play with some sort of weird detachment to the whole thing. They’re telling his story– _their_ story–but he can’t seem to focus at the pure irony of it all. It’s the feeling equivalent to having a dirty sock shoved in the face– _hey, look at all the things you did in the past to save the world and look what you came out with. A demon as your brother, a wayward angel and the few dead friends on the side._

Vexing, he might call it. Exhausting, is another good word for it. 

The light from the stage flickers with what sounds like an mp3 recording of a thunderstorm plays in the background. Sam blinks and pays attention, huffing when he recognizes which scene it is. He’s heard the excerpt from Dean and a little from Bobby when they’d first met Cas, but he’s never read the book where it’d happened–too weird, too personal, too private for him, he thought. Like telescoping into his brother’s brain.

 _He was scary as fuck, man_ , Dean had said. _A giant, scary dickbag._

Fake Bobby falls over dramatically as fake Cas touches him on the forehead. The trench coat is almost dragging on the ground as he walks up to confront fake Dean. 

Fake Dean stabs fake Cas in the chest, and Sam flinches. Jesus, high school kids are brutal.

“That’s not even the right trench coat." _  
_

Sam turns to Dean, who’s, for some reason, weirdly into the play. "What?”

“His tie’s not on backwards. Come the fuck on, that’s like, Cas’s trade mark, man.” Dean points at the stage, obviously oblivious or ignoring Sam’s bewilderment. “Are you not seeing this?”

“It’s a high school play, Dean. I wasn’t exactly expecting Broadway costume department.”

“Yeah, but you’d think they’d at least get _something_ right,” he mutters, and a woman sitting in front of them–probably one of the parents–glances back with a disapproving frown. Sam gives a tight smile in return as an apology, and turns his glare back to Dean.

“ _Focus,_ ” Sam hisses, and Dean imitates him like a pre-schooler. “Real mature.”

“Says you,” Dean spits, but slumps back onto his chair. Sam turns his focus back to the play. The room flashes again, this time showing a set of wings behind fake Cas and huh, not too shabby for a high school production. 

Dean perks up then, alarming Sam enough to grab his wrist in reflex. “Where are you _going_?” Sam whispers, and for the first time since he’s interacted with him as a demon, something that’s not cocky or douche-y flashes across Dean’s face. It takes Sam by surprise enough to almost not notice Dean taking his wrist back. 

“Let’s leave." 

"What? But the–” _  
_

“I _said,_ let's _go–”_

Now he looks full out uncomfortable, distressed even, and Sam’s starting to fear the haunting might not be a simple one after all when fake Dean’s booming voice crosses the room. 

“And why would an _angel_ ,” fake Dean snarls, and Sam distinctively thinks the kid’s got real talent because he definitely sees Dean on that stage, “rescue me from Hell?”

Fake Cas slowly crosses the room while staring at fake Dean. “Good things do happen, Dean.”

Dean, the real Dean, shifts his weight on his feet and yanks at Sam, almost taking his gingerly healing arm with him. “Come _on_ –”

“Not in my experience,” Fake Dean barely whispers.

“What’s the matter?” Fake Cas asks in pure wonder, and Sam holds out against Dean’s insistent superhuman tugging, because for some reason this Dean, even after turning into a demon–-or maybe _because_ he’s a demon?-–doesn’t want him to know about this and– “You don’t think you deserve to be saved.”

Oh.

He lets himself be led out after that, even though now, the way Dean leaves the auditorium is almost in defeat instead of a persistent demand, his tense shoulders a strange yet familiar landscape after the last few months of lack of that particular scenery. 

“Dean–”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Look–”

“I said shut _up_ , Sam.” Dean turns, his black eyes flickering in and out, and Sam’s fingers instinctively twitch, void of Ruby’s knife. “Look, we might be playing buddy-buddies right now because of _circumstances_ , and I know you want your older brother back or some shit, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to hesitate snapping your neck off and enjoy the hell out of it. Capiché?”

Sam tightens his jaw, and bites down on his tongue. He just has to keep him around a while longer, and maybe, maybe he _can_ be cured. Maybe there _is_ some sort of a way to nullify the Mark of Cain and bring Dean back. Maybe Cas will find another way to save him, raise Dean out of this mess again.

It also means he has to play along and keep Dean here until he can figure a way out of all this shit. "Yeah, okay.“

Dean scowls and walks away, tugging at his tie. Sam follows after, after one last glance at the auditorium.


End file.
